Die As Myself

Strange, here I am, ready to continue into a fraught vocation, a sort of mixture of farming and construction, with some wanderings into the surrounding wilderness for good measure, within a geologically and meteorologically unstable mountain canyon. There are many ways to die here. None of that seems to be a problem though.  

But somehow, dying of a disease fumbled and spread by the dysfunctional operations of capital and U.S. capital in particular, in fear of engaging health services and feeling like a deadly burden, just seemed intolerable. 

We talk about living as ourselves, and actualizing, and being authentic, and so on. But there is also dying as ourselves.